


love amongst the algorithm

by nights



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Azula and Zuko have a good relationship, Happy Azula (Avatar), M/M, TikTok, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, and zuko thirst follows, sokka makes salacious food videos, that is the whole premise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nights/pseuds/nights
Summary: It's pretty clear Sokka knows what he’s doing, from a marketing perspective. Cute shirtless guy + delicious food = algorithm catnip. Zuko’s all too happy to help his engagement, liking and saving each video. His thumbs had hovered over the comment section a few times, but he had always been too chicken to send one. What’s he going to say? “looks tasty”? “yum”? “please call me I am very lonely and desperate”? No.---The food TikTok AU that absolutely no one requested.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 724
Collections: A Labyrinth of Fics





	love amongst the algorithm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crack idea that got away from me before I knew what was happening. Features bumbling Zuko, Ty Lee working her magic, and Azula making snide sister comments.

Zuko’s thumb swipes the screen, again, again, mindlessly flicking through his For You page. It’s a brainless enough distraction from his Comparative Lit paper.

“Here’s a list of Barbies that are currently for sale on Mattel’s website that are _definitely_ lesbians —” Swipe.

“I want you to park that Big Mack tru—” Swipe.

“ _Please_ vote our rights are on the line —” Swipe.

“Put a finger down if —” Swipe.

“Hey guys, I’m Sokka, it’s pronounced with an ‘okka, and today we’re making miso ramen!”

Finally, something worth watching.

“Grab your sesame oil, put that on low heat, and add minced garlic, ginger, and shallot — smells amazing already —”

Zuko can’t smell it through the screen, but the food sure looks good. Both things always looked good. The account, @meatandsarcasm, is Zuko’s favorite, offering a two-for-one deal: beautiful food cooked by a beautiful man, a beautiful man wearing an apron and not much else. Zuko would be lying if he said he followed @meatandsarcasm just for the delicious recipes. In fact, he’d never tried a single one, despite saving almost every video to his Favorites. To watch later, for… culinary purposes.

“Add, you guessed it, the meat — I’m using ground pork —”

Zuko isn’t really paying attention to the ingredients. Wherever he is, Sokka must have someone to help him film, because most shots involved morsels of Sokka himself along with the food: one getting the flex of his shoulder while he stirred, a shot of Sokka turning around with a bowl in his hand that offered a flash of those back muscles.

“Bring it all to a nice simmer —”

It's pretty clear Sokka knows what he’s doing, from a marketing perspective. Cute shirtless guy + delicious food = algorithm catnip. Zuko’s all too happy to help his engagement, liking and saving each video. His thumbs had hovered over the comment section a few times, but he had always been too chicken to send one. What’s he going to say? “looks tasty”? “yum”? “please call me I am very lonely and desperate”? No.

“—and that’s it! Perfect comfort food.” The video ends with a shot of Sokka lifting some noodles to his mouth, sending the camera a wink with his mouth open and tongue outstretched, ready for noodles. _Or other things._ Wait, what? The video restarts, and Zuko patiently watches again, noting the confidence of Sokka’s hands as he cooks the ramen anew.

“Need a glass of water, Zuzu?” comes from over his shoulder, right next to his ear, and Zuko flinches away, yelping.

“Christ, Azula. Didn’t I tell you not to sneak up on me like that?”

“You know you can just watch porn, right? Like, it exists?”

“Fuck off.”

She smirks and leaves him alone with the video. From where he’s curled up on the couch in a nest of blankets — their apartment doesn’t have the best insulation of all time — he can hear the sound of Azula clanking around the kitchen.

“You drank the last of the tea!” she calls. “ _My_ tea!”

“Azula, it was _my_ tea!” Zuko calls back.

She appears again, coming around to stand in front of him with her hands indignantly on her hips.

“The jasmine pearl tea. It was mine, and you drank it all. Buy your own tea.”

“Was it the tea in the mason jar?” She nods angrily, waving a hand. “Azula, Uncle gave that to me for my birthday. Remember?”

She opens her mouth to say something, then snaps her mouth shut again angrily. Zuko rolls his eyes, and she stomps back into the kitchen.

It’s a pain to live with her sometimes, but after Azula had scared Ty Lee away with her fanatical dusting, and after Zuko had chewed Jet out about the almighty chore chart one too many times, the solution became clear. She’s persnickety, just like he is, and even if they butt heads (which they do, often), Zuko does appreciate having an immaculate bathroom.

His eyes drag themselves back to @meatandsarcasm. Zuko likes the video and saves it, as per usual, then taps on the username to scroll through. He’s seen them all before, many times over, but Sokka’s a nice distraction. A really nice distraction. It’s not Zuko’s fault he has eyes, okay? One video is a response to someone’s comment, asking about easy college food recommendations; Zuko thinks he’d probably crumble if Sokka responded to his comment. Granted, he’d have to, you know. Actually comment, for that to happen.

After getting his fill of gorgeous food and Sokka’s toothy smile, he sighs and locks his phone. This Comparative Lit paper isn’t going to write itself.

* * *

The Comparative Lit paper hadn’t written itself.

It had taken him the whole night — partially because he kept getting distracted by his phone, but he wasn’t going to admit that to himself — but it had been written, and now it’s Friday, and Azula has the girls over, and they’re all somewhere between tipsy and drunk.

“Zuzuuuu, you’re no fun.”

“Azula, I’m not gonna let you do my makeup.”

“You promised.” She pokes him, pouting with unnervingly sweet eyes.

Ty Lee picks her head up from Mai’s lap, flips over to try to get upright, and tumbles right off the couch.

Mai reaches a hand out. “Are you okay there?” Her cheeks are ruddy as can be.

“I’m fine. Really! Gimme more of that pink wine.” She giggles, and makes grabby hands for her cup. Mai rolls her eyes, but passes it down to where Ty Lee’s sitting cross-legged on the worn rug.

“Zuzu. Zuzu. Zuzu.” Azula pokes him again.

“Stop it.”

“I think you’d look sooooo good,” Ty Lee wheedles, but Zuko just furrows his brow and nurses his beer. “Or! Or, we could do a different activity. A game?”

Zuko huffs and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his For You page, pulling it away when Azula tries to grab it.

“Ugh, you’re obsessed with him, Zuzu.”

“Ooh, who’s Zuko obsessed with?” Ty Lee brightens up, taking another sip of that sickeningly sweet wine Zuko refused to put in his body.

He glowers. “No one.”

“Someone’s got a crush,” Mai deadpans, a small smile curling at her mouth.

Azula groans and flops back onto the floor. “It’s this —” she waves a hand, “Tiktoker, or something.”

“Ew, like that… what’s it called, hyper house?” Mai wrinkles her nose, sipping her red wine carefully.

Zuko retches. “God, no. I’m offended you’d think that. It’s a food account, _Azula_.” She makes a face at him.

“Yeah, a food account with a shirtless guy.”

Ty Lee claps her hands together and crawls over. “Show me, show me.”

He sighs, but obliges, and she quickly grabs the phone to scroll through recipe after recipe.

“This one looks sooo good.” She stops on a plate of mouthwatering pasta. “Have you tried it?”

“Um, no. I haven’t tried any of them, actually,” Zuko admits, taking a swig of his beer to muffle his embarrassment.

“Mr. ‘I-watch-for-the-recipes’,” Azula snarks, air-quoting with her fingers.

“We should try it!” Ty Lee crows, bounding to the kitchen. As soon as the pots and pans start tumbling out of the cabinets, Azula’s on her feet, racing over — God forbid anything happen to her organization system, even when she’s drunk.

Mai sighs and picks at her nails. “I _am_ hungry.” Her voice is flat, but her mouth betrays her, twitching into a smile.

Zuko rises, going to hover at the periphery while Ty Lee pulls out a pan and the citrus juicer. She spins to the siblings.

“You guys got a lemon? And, um —” she stops to look at the video again, “Pecorino cheese?”

Azula pulls open the fridge and roots around. “Yes, actually.” She holds the ingredients aloft.

“Oh! And… mas-car-pone?”

“Ty Lee, why the fuck would I have mascarpone?” Azula sighs.

“I was just asking.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine without out it,” Azula says breezily, and Ty Lee perks up again, taking the ingredients and promptly dropping them.

“Ty, just —” Zuko picks them up. “You’re too drunk, let me.”

“I’m not too drunk!”

“You fell off the couch.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.” She thinks, then smiles. “I know, you make it and I’ll film. We can make a Tiktok, just like your crush!”

Zuko starts up a pot of water. “I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Yes you do,” Azula sing-songs, and Ty Lee pulls out her own phone with glee.

Zuko puts on a big show of grumbling, but he’s not about to let his sister or his friend burn themselves with this drunken idea, so he starts making the damn pasta. Ty Lee gets up in his face with the phone, and he brushes her away, but she follows along behind him doggedly.

“Okay, what next?” he sighs, exasperated.

“Pasta water in the pan,” Ty Lee chirps, and he obeys, then yells in surprise when it sizzles violently.

Azula lets out a peal of laughter, and he shoots her a glare. “Have you never cooked before or something?”

“Azula, come on, _anyone can cook_ ,” Ty Lee chides.

His sister considers him with a smirk. “He does have some rat-like qualities.”

“Hey!” Zuko only has time to glare again for a moment before Ty Lee’s reminding him to add the butter.

Ty Lee cackles her way through the rest of the recipe, shoving the camera in Zuko’s face, and then mercifully, it’s all over, and she’s taking a selfie of her stuffing her mouth. The pasta’s pretty good, if Zuko does say so himself, especially considering he is pretty hopeless most of the time. _I guess it was a pretty easy recipe._ He tosses the dishes in the sink — “I’ll do them in the morning, Azula, I promise — shouldn’t Ty Lee be doing them, anyways? This was her idea” — and begs off the rest of the night. Best to leave the rest of the wine for them.

* * *

Three days later, Zuko sees his own face on his For You page.

He bolts upright out of his slump — yeah, that’s him alright. It’s from @tydoeslife — _Ty Lee, what have you done_ — and it’s a duet, of the original @meatandsarcasm video they’d followed in the first place. Somehow, she’d managed to splice together something from those drunken videos that wasn’t too shaky and all over the place. It’s a little disjointed, flashes of Azula laughing in the background when the lemon slipped out of Zuko’s hand while trying to juice it, Ty Lee giggling when Zuko yelled and leapt back from the pan — panning to Azula’s face, then cutting to more of Zuko’s bumbling. The whole thing is set to music that sounds more appropriate for a clown car.

He wants to sink into the couch. Mostly it’s just him fucking up royally, and then there’s the last few shots: the pasta piled messily onto a dollar store plate, Ty Lee stuffing her face, and a voiceover from a presumably much-less-drunk Ty Lee: “Delicious, eleven out of ten, excellent drunchies, will make at 1am again.”

The video loops, and Zuko groans. He peeks at the caption.

#duet with [▶︎meatandsarcasm] night pasta is an important part of wellness #emointhekitchen #gothatouille

 _Gothatouille?_ He checks the likes, and chokes. _64.8 thousand?!_

Zuko thinks he might pass away right there in his bed. He pans to his text messages frantically.

✨ _the girls_ ✨ _\+ zuzu_ 🤮

TY LEE WHAT THE HELL

 _Ty Lee  
_what? :(((

YOU POSTED IT

 _Ty Lee_  
oooooh the tiktok! ya it was cute

It was NOT cute.

 _Azula_  
Calm down it’s just a silly video

 _Ty Lee_  
i thought it was funny! and you looked cute in it

I look like a bumbling idiot

 _Azula_  
Well, at least you’re self-aware

Can you please take it down

 _Ty Lee_  
noooo but you went viral :(

Ty please

 _Mai_  
Zuko I’m begging you to chill out

It’s just a tiktok it’s not the end of the  
world. You’re so dramatic

 _Azula_  
Wait how many views does it have

 _Ty Lee_  
212.3k as of right now!!!! :D

ARE YUO KIDDING TAKE  
IT DOWN

 _Azula_  
I think you should keep it up, it’ll  
be good for your engagement

 _Mai_  
I agree with Azula

 _Ty Lee  
_sorry zuko the votes are in :)

gothatouille stays

I hate you all.

Azula  
😘

* * *

Zuko groans again, locking his phone and letting it fall to his side on the bed. _Stupid Ty Lee and her stupid Tiktoks. It’s not even her type of content._ While Zuko had no trace of his identity on his Tiktok account — no videos, a photo of a goose wielding a knife as his profile picture, and the ambiguous handle @druksdad — Ty Lee had embraced the platform wholeheartedly. She posted plenty of videos of her favorite yoga poses, her “wellness” tips, some babbling about auras and crystals. Not really Zuko’s cup of tea, but she was his friend, so he gave her a dutiful follow. And she repaid his kindness in viral internet humiliation.

Two days after that, Zuko sees his own face on his For You page again.

It’s smaller now, because it’s been duetted a _second_ time: Ty Lee’s video is crammed into the right side of the screen, and on the left is a new video from @meatandsarcasm. His heart skyrockets to his throat seeing Sokka’s lopsided smile on the screen, just a few pixels from his own. Sokka’s apron-less, taking a video of himself from the collarbones up, wearing some sort of loose-fitting tank top.

“See? Anyone can cook!” he jokes good-naturedly, “Even cute guys who have trouble with citrus juicers.”

 _CUTE_ — Zuko thinks he might throw up — but in a good way?

“You guys did a great job, this is one of my favorite recipes too — but you forgot the mascarpone! It makes it _so_ creamy, you have to give it another shot. I promise it’ll make your night pasta even better.” He ends the video with a wink and a smile, and Zuko’s heart just about stops.

Zuko locks the phone and throws it across the couch. _He called me cute — he saw me slip on that damn juicer — he called me cute — I looked SO dumb —_ Zuko scrambles across the couch and picks up his phone again, watching the video over and over.

“Azula!” he calls, and she pokes her head out from the hallway.

“What?” she snaps. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“Whatever, c’mere c’mere.” He holds the phone up towards her, and she pads over to look down at the phone with pursed lips and an arched brow. Then, her eyes widen, she leans closer, and shoots Zuko an amused look.

“Aw, he noticed you. Too cute.” Azula turns away again, calling over her shoulder. “Why don’t you — oh, what do they call it — slide into his DM’s?” She rounds the corner back into her room.

“I’m not gonna do _that!_ ” Zuko yelps. How humiliating. Sokka was probably only being coy, for the sake of his flirty brand. Or whatever.

His phone pings, and a notification from Ty Lee pops up.

_Ty Lee_

eeeee did you see it?

I’m guessing you’re talking about this?

_Website: @meatandsarcasm on TikTok_

yeah!!

he said you were cute :)

Yeah… I guess

this is adorable

okay i’m coming over

Why

What

How do you even know I’m home

i have your location silly

How do you have my location??

azula set it up

for security reasons

i have hers too and she has mine

Girls are weird.

🥰

okay i’ll see you in 15

You still haven’t told me why  
you’re coming over!

* * *

Ty Lee breezes through the front door 17 minutes later, a wide grin on her face.

“Why are you here?” Zuko groans, pulling his hoodie over her face.

Azula peeks out of her bedroom door. “Oh, hey Ty. Zuko, is that any way to greet a guest?”

He scoffs, throwing a hand out at her. “She just came over uninvited!”

“How do you know I didn’t invite her over?”

“Well. Did you?”

Azula sniffs. “No, but that’s not the point.”

Unfazed, Ty Lee leans over Zuko and pulls his hood back. “Come on, Zuko. Make another video with me. For your new boyfriend?” She bats her eyelashes.

Zuko scoffs. “He’s not my boyfriend, he barely knows who I am.”

“Not with that attitude!” she chirps, and starts destroying the kitchen.

Azula looks about ready to burst, so Zuko stands, shoots her an _I’ll fix this later_ look — she sends over a _You’d better_ look back — and stands next to Ty Lee with his hands in his pockets.

“Fine. What do you want me to make.”

“Yay!” She clasps her hands together, then pulls up the recipe in question. _I know this one —_ it’s got a particularly good glimpse of Sokka’s abs in it — _focus, Zuko. The food._

It’s a stir fry, pretty run of the mill, but Sokka focuses on the homemade sauce, swearing that “the sauce can make or break your stir fry, and don’t be afraid to mix things up a little,” with a waggle of his eyebrows. He flexes his bicep a little while chopping the veggies, licks the spoon after he stirs the sauce — Zuko feels his cheeks flush. He never realized quite how… suggestive the videos were, until he was forced to watch them in front of another person.

“Do you have everything?” she asks, practically jumping up and down.

“What do I look like, a grocery store?” He checks. _Most of the sauce stuff — ugh. The veggies are a bust._ “No, I don’t have everything.”

“Then we need to go shopping!”

They return laden with vegetables and chicken, and Ty Lee stands back, camera open.

“Okay, Gothatouille, you ready?”

“Ugh, I’d rather you call me _Zuzu_. Wait, I take that back.”

“Too late, Zuzu!”

Zuko heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Just — whatever. What do I do first?”

He struggles through the recipe, much to Ty Lee’s delight. There’s a hiccup with the sauce, when he gets a splatter on his cheek and Ty Lee attempts to wipe it off. Zuko frets over cooking the chicken enough — he whines to Ty Lee about salmonella — but finally, the whole thing’s on a plate, and Ty Lee takes another selfie shot, this time eating steaming veggies.

“Okay, this is actually pretty good,” Zuko says. It’s a much more sophisticated lunch than he was originally planning on, anyways.

Azula slinks into the kitchen and grabs a plate, looking sheepishly at Zuko. He narrows his eyes.

“What? It smells good.”

“Aha! So you admit, I’m a good cook.” Zuko feels his satisfaction swell when his sister scowls and flees to her room, plate of stir fry in tow.

* * *

Sokka’s duet comes a day or so later. Not that Zuko’s obsessively refreshing his page or anything.

There’s a shot of Zuko waving Ty Lee’s hands away, bringing a paper towel up to wipe that sauce off his face, and Sokka smiles.

“Trust me, the sauce is _so_ worth getting a little messy in the kitchen.”

When Zuko complains to the camera about salmonella, Sokka’s eyes light up.

“Folks, when it comes to food safety, a meat thermometer is your best friend — chicken should reach a temperature of at least 165 degrees. But I don’t think you need any help when it comes to getting hot enough.” He smirks. Zuko squeaks, and is very glad Azula isn’t around to hear it.

He pulls up the comments; they’re all some variation of “it’s the sexual tension for me…” or “WHO IS GOTHATOUILLE”. Zuko rues the day he downloaded the app. One comment reads “@tydoeslife gothatouille reveal?”, to which she’s replied, “maybe if @meatandsarcasm asks really nicely ;)” which. He did _not_ give Ty Lee permission to flirt shamelessly on his behalf.

_Ty Lee_

Okay I agreed to make the video

But I did not agree to you flirting  
with him for me

but zuko

Stop it

one more video?

for meeeeeee?

One.

* * *

They make the video. Zuko’s sure that he thickened the sauce too much, but the chicken teriyaki comes out edible — not that Azula admits it. Zuko refuses to open the app, too nervous about his burgeoning internet celebrity as “Gothatouille” to even chance seeing the video. Ty Lee finally texts him the video, keysmashing along with it, and Zuko breathlessly opens the duet.

“Looks delicious! And I’m not just talking about the chicken.”

Heart palpitations. That’s what Zuko’s having.

When video-Zuko drops his wooden spoon, sheepishly chucking it in the sink and pulling out a fresh one, Sokka says, “Looks like you could use some help. Maybe an in-person lesson?”

Zuko can’t watch the rest. His thumbs slam out a response to Ty Lee — equally as unintelligible as she is — and then she offers to orchestrate a meeting. Zuko hesitates. _What if he’s just joking? How embarrassing, having my friend ask him out for me like I’m a child. I could just ignore this and forget this all happened —_

His train of thought is interrupted by his phone buzzing violently, Ty Lee’s profile picture flashing on the screen.

Zuko sighs. “What?”

“You’re not answering!” she squeals, and Zuko holds the phone slightly away from his ear.

“You gave me like, thirty seconds to respond.”

She barrels past that. “So, can I DM him? He followed me. I can totally DM him for you. Zuko, you _have_ to, it’s so romantic!”

“Ty, it’s an app, it isn’t romantic at all.”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease you know you want me to. You think he’s cute, what’s the problem?”

Finally, she lets the line fall silent, and Zuko gnaws on his lip. “It’s just… he’s probably kidding.”

“Zuko, he followed me and then sent his _own video_ to me with a question mark. I don’t think he’s kidding.” She still sounds like she’s holding back squeals.

“Well. What if he doesn’t like me? Like, I know _he’s_ funny, but I’m just some guy who made some stupid videos.”

Ty Lee sighs on the other end. “Not an excuse, Zuzu —”

“— _please_ stop calling me that.”

“— because if you don’t meet him, you’ll never know! For all you know, he could be your soulmate.”

Zuko snorts. “Soulmate? Okay, calm down.”

“What, he could! Look, if you don’t agree, I’m gonna tell him you want to meet him anyway and then when you don’t show up he’s going to be heartbroken, and it’s going to be all your fault.”

“Wh — it would be _your_ fault! I’m not —”

“Heartbroken, Zuzu! Do you want to be known forever as the guy that broke meatandsarcasm’s heart?”

He sighs. “You’re not giving me a choice, are you.”

“Nope!” she chirps, and promptly hangs up.

* * *

Zuko sits on the bench, reading and re-reading his texts with Ty Lee assuring him that yes, Sokka really did want to meet him, and no, he’s not going to ruin everything. He doesn’t re-read his texts from Mai telling him he’s being stupid, and to just stop worrying and “be yourself, or whatever”. He loves Mai, but Ty Lee’s got a softer hand with this kind of thing.

“Sorry, um — Zuko, right?”

He’d been so engrossed, he hadn’t noticed until the man was right there, two legs next to his knees. Zuko’s head snaps up, and — _oh, fuck._ He shoots up to his feet, which is a bad decision, because now he’s standing almost chest to chest with Sokka and _shit, he’s tall._ He shifts back awkwardly, trying to put an appropriate amount of space between them. They were, after all, at a bus stop.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m Zuko. Or, uh. Gothatouille.” Zuko wants to ram his head right through the glass paneling of the bus stop shelter.

But Sokka grins, and Zuko has to avert his eyes, it’s so bright and kind. “Sick. Nice to meet you, finally.” He sticks his hand out, and Zuko takes it — _hands warm, hands warm_ — and then Sokka’s eyes flick away and back again. He rubs a hand over the back of his head, at the short buzzed hair of his undercut, and clears his throat. “So. I was thinking we could hit the Safeway on 11th?”

“Sure, that sounds. Um, good.”

Sokka gives a relieved chuckle, and Zuko falls into step beside him, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. It’s deafeningly quiet, at least in Zuko’s ears, before Sokka offers up an olive branch.

“So, your friend — her name’s Ty Lee?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“She said spring rolls are your favorite.”

Zuko feels like he’s probably going to need blood pressure medication after this is all over. “Yeah, they’re —” he tries to keep his voice from shaking, “— my mom used to make them for me and my sister.”

He catches a little smile from Sokka. “Hopefully we can do them justice.”

The Safeway isn’t far, but then Sokka’s got his ratty hand-written list out and Zuko’s following him around with the cart, and it all gets really real, really fast, under the fluorescent store lights. Sokka’s grocery shopping strategy is nothing like Zuko’s, zipping around the store with no rhyme or reason, but Zuko can’t bear to tell him that it’s really stressing him out, because he just looks so lovely with his nose scrunched up looking at cilantro.

“Okay, some carrots…” Sokka shakes out a produce bag, throwing a few carrots in. “That’s everything!” He beams.

“What about the peanut sauce?” Zuko blurts, and Sokka smacks himself on the forehead.

He wants to say sorry, but then Sokka says, “Of course. Stupid, you can’t have spring rolls without peanut sauce. Um, lemme think. I’ve got peanut butter at home —”

“You’re not stupid.” It’s such a dumb comment. Of course Sokka meant it as a lighthearted joke, why did Zuko say that? _Now you look socially inept, you absolute —_

Sokka’s lips quirk. “Thanks, I uh… I guess I just forgot to put the sauce stuff on the list.” He takes a breath, looks like he’s thinking about something, and then it comes out in a rush: “I was a little nervous.”

Zuko can’t help but giggle. “Nervous?”

Sokka looks at him apprehensively. “Yeah? ‘Cause, you know…” He waves his hands around.

“What?”

“Well — you’re cute, or whatever, so.”

Zuko’s sure his face is tomato red. “ _I_ was nervous. You’re the one who’s famous.”

“Ah, TikTok doesn’t count.” He looks away as they drift to the condiments aisle.

“That and you’re pretty cute, too.” Zuko’s surprised by his own mouth — it seems to be making decisions for itself.

Sokka ducks his head, smiling, and Zuko’s chest swells. It feels good, to get him to smile like that, little smiles so unlike the brash, cheeky grins in his videos.

Sokka’s apartment looks different in person, too. He’s never seen the living room, for one — there’s a plain grey couch and a comically large TV, and more photo collages than he’s ever seen one person have. Zuko suddenly realizes he has no idea if Sokka has roommates, but doesn’t ask; he doesn’t want to imply anything untoward.

He doesn’t need to, though: “Aang’s out for the night,” Sokka offers up. “Taking Katara out for dinner.”

Zuko nods, hovering in the space between the living room and the kitchen. “Sounds nice,” he says blandly.

“I think ours will be nicer,” Sokka says, and sneaks a peek at Zuko, who’s trying desperately to will his face not to heat up. With his pale skin, he’s always easily flushed: embarrassment, exercise, alcohol, it all makes him glow red as a traffic light. It’s always infuriated him.

Sokka scoots in close as they chop the vegetables, shoulder to shoulder with Zuko, and Zuko prays to whatever cosmic powers may be that he doesn’t slip and cut himself. He takes a deep breath, focusing on getting his hands not to shake.

“Try rocking it,” Sokka says softly, and Zuko glances at him and realizes even more viscerally how close they really are; he can see each of Sokka’s eyelashes, the way his lip is pinker in the middle…

“Hm?” Zuko had lost his train of thought.

“The knife.” He looks back down at his hands. “When you chop, rock it back and forth, like this.” Sokka demonstrates, and yeah, it’s a lot more efficient. Zuko gives it a shot. “Yeah, you’ve got it. You’re a natural.”

Zuko almost _preens_ at that, but just gives Sokka the best smile he can muster and hopes he doesn’t look too inept. _Fuck, I need directions to even cut anything._

“You keep chopping, I’ll make the sauce.”

On his own, Sokka’s scarily fast, whipping it together before Zuko’s all the way through the cucumber. He hovers behind Zuko’s shoulder, so close Zuko thinks he’s burning.

“Going good?”

Zuko hums weakly. “I’m almost done. That sauce smells good.”

“Wanna try it?” Sokka holds out the spoon, and Zuko takes it in his hand, getting a mouthful. _Yeah, it’s peanut sauce._

“Tastes good, too,” he says, and catches how Sokka’s eyes track his tongue when he licks his lips clean. “Distracted?”

Sokka looks startled. “Oh, uh.” He hesitates, then: “A little.” He ducks away, and Zuko feels a little satisfied curl of his belly — he can make Sokka flustered, too.

While chopping is not Zuko’s strong suit, one thing his mother _had_ let him do was wrap the spring rolls, and that’s where he shines. He folds them deftly, stacking their serving plate with the little bundles. He barely notices Sokka struggling until he grumbles, holding up a tattered piece of rice paper.

“How do you do that? Mine keep ripping.”

He looks so forlorn, cradling the ruined wrapper, that Zuko almost laughs. “Don’t leave the rice paper in the water too long. Just give them a quick dip, like this.” He makes another roll.

Sokka looks between Zuko and the bowl of water, and gives it a shot, but the paper rips again.

“I think you need to show me.” Zuko does, again, but Sokka’s mouth curls in a mischievous smile. “No, like, show me? Uh, with your hands.”

Finally he gets the message. “ _Oh._ Yeah.”

He shifts in, settling his hands on Sokka’s, and Sokka takes advantage of the situation to loop his arm around Zuko, so that he’s got his chest pressed to Zuko’s back.Zuko swallows and is endlessly thankful that Sokka can’t see his face.

“Just fold the sides over like that,” he says, and can’t help that his voice gets weak when he feels the soft puff of Sokka’s breath on his neck.

“You’re really good at this,” Sokka murmurs, and Zuko feels so lightheaded he’s a little afraid he might pass out.

“Thanks. I, uh, got a lot of practice making them with my mom. When I was little.”

“That sounds really nice.” Sokka’s voice is like warm butter in Zuko’s ear, and he makes no move to slide away even after Zuko’s guided his hands through the motions once.

Zuko nods a little. “It was. I miss her.” He closes his eyes for a moment, furious with himself for letting that slip. So much for easing into the whole dead mom thing.

Sokka’s quiet for a moment, hands flinching almost imperceptibly in Zuko’s, so Zuko draws away, fingers curling back; but then Sokka smooths a thumb over Zuko’s knuckles.

“I miss my mom, too,” he says, lightly, casual as anything, and they make another roll.

Zuko takes a deep breath and breezes past it. “I think you’ve got the hang of the rolling, now,” he says, and turns to shimmy away — but that was a bad decision, because now he’s face to face with Sokka, and Sokka can see how desperately flustered he is. “Um.”

He’s crammed between the counter and Sokka, and Sokka just stands there, tilting his head a little. “Um?”

Zuko clears his throat. “You’re a… natural at this, too.”

Sokka’s grin is wide, spreading up to the crinkle of his eyes. “Well, I had a good teacher.” He lifts a tentative hand to brush Zuko’s hair off his cheek, and Zuko _knows_ what comes next, but he thinks he might have a heart attack before it even happens.

“You know, I really like your videos,” he says, and Sokka looks sheepish.

“Oh, that’s nice of you to say. They’re kind of silly. Just a fun little hobby, I guess.” He shrugs.

Sokka’s eyes flick down like he’s embarrassed. _Ah, fuck._ “It’s cool you have a hobby.”

“You don’t?” He looks amused, inches from Zuko’s face.

“Well, I’m always working. I guess you could call watching Netflix a hobby, but that doesn’t count. Everyone does that.”

“What do you like to watch?” Sokka’s stance shifts, bracing his hands on either side of Zuko and watching him carefully.

Zuko feels his body get hot, feels hyperaware of the clothes on his skin. “I know a lot of people like to binge-watch, but I never have the time, so I like movies mostly,” he rambles. “I finally watched ‘Taxi Driver’ the other day, which was a little long but I think I liked it, and De Niro is great in it of course.”

Sokka hums, tilting his head to the other side.

Zuko fills the silence. “I don’t know if you prefer like, horror or comedy or what —”

“I love comedies,” Sokka says quietly.

“You’ll like ‘The Little Hours’, then, it’s really funny, it’s about these nuns in a convent, it’s got a great cast, Dave Franco, Alison Brie, Fred Armisen, Aubrey Plaza.”

“I love Aubrey Plaza.”

“Mm-hmm, she’s hilarious —”

Sokka leans in closer, and Zuko loses all ability to form words. “Thanks for the recommendation.” Zuko doesn’t know what to do with his hands — he wants to do so much, and isn’t sure where they’re allowed to go.

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?”

Sokka’s eyes flick over his face. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Zuko’s fingertips reach out, barely brushing Sokka’s hips.

“You should, uh, do that,” he says, in a breath, unable to hold back a smile.

Sokka leans in, lips hovering before Zuko’s. It’s agonizing, Zuko can feel how warm his breath is, so he closes the gap himself, spreading his palms on Sokka’s hips and sinking into the kiss. They’re still, at first, and then Sokka’s lips move slowly, pushing forward and pulling back. Zuko tilts his head, trying to find just the right way to slot their lips together — there. He feels Sokka smile against his mouth, feels Sokka’s hand cradle the back of his head as he leans the two of them against the counter. Zuko’s glad he’s braced between Sokka and the quartz countertop, with Sokka holding him, because otherwise he might just keel over.

Zuko’s hands flutter at Sokka’s hips, tentatively making their way to spread over Sokka’s back. _His shirt is really soft_ , Zuko thinks hazily, and sighs when Sokka wraps his other arm around Zuko’s waist, pulling their chests flush together.

Now that Zuko’s here, in this fantasy world where he’s actually kissing Sokka, the guy he’d watched longingly on his phone screen, he’s not sure where to go next; he’s not sure where Sokka wants to go next, and his traitorous brain seizes on the thought and ruins the spell. _Is this a date? Was he planning on kissing me? Does he just want to hook up? He’s so fucking hot but he’s also —_ he gets thrown back into reality, for a moment, by the gentle touch of Sokka’s tongue on the inside of his lip — _god, he’s really nice, and funny —_

Sokka pulls back, brow pulling together slightly. “Something wrong?”

“No! Nothing’s wrong.” Leave it to him to ruin the whole thing by overthinking.

“You sure?” Sokka frowns. _Oh, god._ “You just went kind of… tense, all of a sudden. I’m — we can just have spring rolls.”

Zuko grips Sokka’s hips, frantic to recapture whatever atmosphere was there before he ruined it. “No, I’m not — I just —” He huffs, frustrated with himself. “I was wondering what you want. Out of this. Like, uh. Is this a date, or…?”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” Sokka says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Very okay!” Zuko says, too eagerly, and backtracks. “You know, the spring rolls are nice.”

Sokka snorts and kisses Zuko again, hot and slow, sighing when Zuko runs his tongue along the edge of Sokka’s teeth. There’s no room in Zuko’s brain for overthinking when Sokka’s hand is tracing up the back of his neck, sending goosebumps skittering down Zuko’s arms. They only break apart for mere moments to breathe, half into each other’s mouths, spring rolls entirely forgotten — in fact, they’re so preoccupied, neither hears the front door open.

“Eugh, _Sokka!_ ” a woman’s voice yells, and Zuko jumps, scrambling away from him, whipping around.

The woman who yelled is standing in the living room, hands up to her face to shield her eyes. She’s damp, and so is the bald guy standing next to her, who’s laughing and shrugging off his thin jacket.

Sokka sputters. “You said you weren’t going to be home until nine!”

“We stopped to get Aang’s umbrella! I _texted you_.” She’s got the same thick, shiny hair and high cheekbones as Sokka. “It’s not my fault you were too busy sucking face to check your phone.”

“ _Katara,_ ” he says, scandalized, glancing to Zuko, who’s trying his hardest to stand very still and hope the ordeal is over soon.

The bald guy laughs again, pulling on a fresh raincoat and pulling an umbrella out of the closet. “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in a sec. Nice to meet you,” he says, giving a little wave to a very petrified Zuko.

“You too,” he manages to get out, and sends a little wave back. “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” the bald guy — Aang — says airily. “Our fault for intruding. Don’t let us harsh your vibe!”

Sokka pinches his nose. “Please leave.”

Aang stage whispers to Katara, “I think that’s our cue,” and carts her away, the door slamming shut behind them.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Sokka beseeches, turning to Zuko. “They were supposed to be gone the whole time.”

Zuko shifts from foot to foot. “Ah, that’s okay, just kind of…”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He slips his arms around Zuko’s hips again. “Can we forget that happened? Just like, delete that? ‘Cause this was going really well, and you’re really great, and I really don’t want my baby sister to ruin it.”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah, the one with hair.”

A little bubble of laughter makes its way out of Zuko. “Okay. Consider it deleted.”

Sokka sighs in relief. “Awesome. Now, where were we? Oh, right.”

He kisses Zuko painfully slow, so sweet, making little happy noises right in the back of his throat and cupping Zuko’s jaw with his hand. Zuko’s loathe to pull away, but his hunger has finally caught up to him.

“Are we ever gonna eat those spring rolls?” he whispers, and Sokka grins.

“Sorry, you’re just so distracting.”

Zuko flushes, and lets Sokka carry the plate of rolls to the little dinner table, something Zuko vaguely recognizes as IKEA… or at least IKEA-adjacent. For a second, holding a roll, he’s worried he’ll look stupid shoving a sauce-covered spring roll in his face — that is, until Sokka does so with gusto, sauce dripping down his chin.

“Thethe ‘re good,” Sokka says around the spring roll, and Zuko _knows_ the smile on his face probably looks stupid, but it’s there anyways.

He swallows, and Zuko dares to reach out and swipe up a drop of peanut sauce with his thumb, sticking his thumb in back his own mouth.

“Your sauce is delicious,” Zuko says, and hides his face in his hand when Sokka waggles his eyebrows. “Fuck, sorry. That came out wrong.”

Sokka watches him — Zuko can see it between his fingers. “You’re cute when you blush.”

Zuko manages to make it through the rest of the meal without putting his foot in his mouth again, blessedly. Sokka staunchly refuses to let Zuko do any dishes, dumping them in the sink “to soak”, as he puts it, and then there’s a charged moment where they’re staring at each other in the kitchen. _Now?_

Zuko wants to stay, he really does. He greedily wants as much time with Sokka as possible, afraid that this is the one night he’ll get — that, somehow, Sokka will realize that Zuko’s actually super weird and unlikeable, and won’t want to see him again — but he sees the time on the microwave clock and sighs. It’s 8:23.

“I guess I’d better go, huh? Before Aang and your sister come back.”

Sokka looks put out. “Yeah.”

Zuko busies himself with putting on his coat and shoes, patting his pockets to check: _phone, keys, wallet —_

Sokka crowds him up against the door, kissing him hard. With Zuko caught by surprise, at first it’s a tangle of arms figuring each other out, but they get to that newfound rhythm again, and Zuko swallows down his sighs and kisses Sokka like his life depends on it. He wants it all, Sokka’s pants, his insistent lips, the awkward knock of his teeth — Sokka finally pulls back, hands jerking away.

“Sorry, that was… I really like you,” he says, quickly.

Zuko’s sure he’s dreaming, feeling like he hit his head on the quartz countertop. “I really like you, too.”

“And, I’d really like to see you again, sometime. If you want to, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do that.”

Sokka grins. “Okay. I’ll text you? Or you text me. Either one is good.” His words are frantic, tumbling over themselves to get out.

Zuko nods, grins the entire elevator ride down to street level. He checks his phone for the first time in hours, and groans at the litany of notifications.

✨ _the girls_ ✨ _\+ zuzu_ 🤮

_Ty Lee  
_how’s it going? :)

zukooooo

zuzu

hello?

 _Azula_  
Private messages exist for a reason

 _Ty Lee_  
but i feel like this is useful  
information for the group!

 _Mai_  
Usually I’d be on your side, Azula

But in this case it would be good  
to know whether or not this TikTok  
guy is a murderer

 _Ty Lee_  
he’s not a murderer! he’s cute, cute  
guys aren’t murderers

 _Azula_  
Ted Bundy.

 _Mai_  
Exactly

 _Ty Lee_  
guys ew

okay maybe u have a point it’s been  
a while

zuko pls tell us u didn’t get murdered :(

 _Azula_  
His location is still on, so at least we  
know where to find the body

 _Mai_  
Or he’s just getting laiddd

 _Azula_  
Disgusting 🤮

 _Mai_  
Zuko if you don’t text us back we’re  
calling the police

I was not murdered

 _Mai_  
He lives

 _Azula_  
Great.

 _Ty Lee_  
omg tell us everything!!!!!

We made spring rolls

 _Ty Lee_  
and? and? and?

That’s pretty much it

 _Azula_  
Couldn’t even close

Hey

I’ll have you know he kissed me,  
thank you very much

 _Azula_  
Gross, keep that to yourself

You’re the one who’s saying  
I can’t close

 _Ty Lee_  
leave him alone azula!!!!

was it soooo romantic?

Ugh, I’m not doing the girl  
talk thing okay

All you need to know is that it  
went well and he wants to  
see me again

 _Mai_  
Congratulations, maybe if you get  
a boyfriend you’ll finally be less of a  
downer

 _Azula_  
Please he’s been emo since he was  
thirteen, he’s not going to stop now

Says the girl who still has posters  
of Hayley Williams in her room

 _Azula_  
I’m blocking you

_Azula removed dum-dum_ 👹 _from the chat.  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Ty Lee is the biggest Zukka shipper, change my mind
> 
> Thanks for putting yourself through reading this!


End file.
